


Taking the Plunge

by Star_Going_Supernova



Category: Godzilla: King of The Monsters (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bonds, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Mutation, Post-Godzilla: King of The Monsters (2019), mutated!Maddie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:28:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21796849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Going_Supernova/pseuds/Star_Going_Supernova
Summary: take the plunge:to enter with sudden decision upon an unfamiliar course of action, as after hesitation or deliberationplunge:to cast oneself into waterWhen scales start showing up across her skin, Maddie decides she's not going to spend the rest of her life agonizing over it. Whatever happens, happens. As long as she keeps her freedom, she doesn't mind the mutations.
Relationships: Godzilla (Legendary | MonsterVerse) & Madison Russell, Madison Russell & Mark Russell
Comments: 153
Kudos: 303





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'know what's fun? Opening your documents folder, where you keep all your stories (like this one), and discovering some are missing. So fun. Yesterday was fun. 
> 
> I was torn between full body horror and a gentle descent into becoming something slightly other, and the latter won out—mostly because I haven’t been in the mood to write hardcore angst recently.

They hesitate to call it magic, because even in the face of Titans and all the impossibilities that go along with them, humans are stubborn. Magic can’t exist.

Over time, they’ll theorize a lot of different things, but the theory they’re most confident about is this: the Titans feed on and absorb ordinary radiation, but it doesn’t stay ordinary for long. At some point, it’s converted into their particular brand of radiation, specific to each’s body and resulting ability. Godzilla’s radiation is different from Mothra’s is different from MUTO’s and so on.

The theory goes on to explain evidence uncovered over years of research that confirms humans and Titans to have once coexisted peacefully. Maybe even symbiotically.

From there, it postulates that maybe some humans used to have something in them, something woven into their DNA or their souls or—well, anything but magic. But it’s gone dormant over time, after the Titans retreated from the world and fell into legend. Dormant, but not dead. Maybe some humans still have _it,_ whatever _it_ is, and all that’s missing is a way for _it_ to activate.

If _it_ activates in the average person, there’s a good chance nothing will happen. After all, the average person never comes into close contact with a Titan or two.

And this is where the theory becomes specific. Because, well, Madison Russell had spent at least half of her life in some proximity to a Titan. How many people could say they touched Mothra, after all? So really, it isn’t surprising, is it, that maybe she had been exposed to enough Titanic radiation to make a difference.

A difference that would only matter if _it_ activates. And this is where the theory ends: by saying that her _it_ is most definitely active.

• • •

Ghidorah, it turned out, might have left more of a mark on Maddie than anyone could have guessed. His lightning disintegrated humans and buildings alike, even ones that were only too close and not in its direct path.

He’d lit up Fenway Park like a fireworks show, and she’d walked away with barely a scratch. All she’d felt was a tingly sensation, like static. How? Other people at a greater distance from his deadly electricity hadn’t survived, so why had she?

She stared down at a small patch of dark gray scales on the back of her wrist and thought of the theory that suggested she wasn’t fully human anymore, thanks to exposure to a lot of unusual radiation and a mysterious gene or something that Ghidorah’s lightning accidentally activated. _Somehow_.

As if everything that had already happened wasn’t enough.

It had taken months to notice anything about her was different, wrong, _changed_. She and her dad and the rest of Monarch had picked up the pieces of humanity’s near annihilation and worked hard to reassure the world that the danger had passed. The Titans, though still awake and active, seemed to go out of their way to prevent causing harm and destruction. With the help of a therapist, Maddie gradually worked through the grief of losing her mom.

Somewhere around seven months after Boston, when things were looking up and people smiled at the sight of Titans instead of freezing in fear and Monarch was making a difference, a small rash had appeared like a bracelet around Maddie’s right wrist. Dry skin, eczema, mild allergic reaction—there was any number of logical, reasonable explanations. She was told to try using lotion, and if there was no improvement after a week, they’d see about getting her a medicated cream.

The rash itched. It didn’t get better, but it also didn’t get worse.

And then three days ago, Maddie had gone to scratch away the prickling sensation and found her skin there to be dark and smooth and not actually skin.

So there she was, with only the bare bones of a theory to explain the presence of _scales_ on her arm and no idea what to do about it.

Maddie looked up at her dad, who was standing next to one of Monarch’s medical doctors, and managed to ask the question that had been haunting her every waking moment since first discovering the scales: “Is it going to get worse?”

The doctor sighed. “I don’t know. None of us do,” she said.

“Your best guess?” Maddie asked.

After a long pause, which her dad spent looking like he really wished this whole thing was a nightmare, the doctor nodded. “Yes. I don’t think it’s going to stop there. There’s no reason for it to, not when it…” she gestured helplessly at the gray patch—the inhuman shackle—circling Maddie’s wrist. “Not when it seems to already be part of you.”

Maddie wrapped her hand around the scales. They felt odd, cold and smooth against her palm, bracketed by warm, soft flesh.

Her dad stepped forward, reaching out to grasp her shoulders. “We’ll figure this out, Maddie. We’ll… we’ll keep looking, keep trying to find a cure or way to reverse it.”

Lingering on things that had already happened didn’t work out so well for her family—see her mom as Exhibit A—and there was nothing appealing about the thought of watching her dad descend into madness, fixated on trying to undo something they had no control over.

She took a deep breath. “No,” she quietly told him. “I think it’d be better to find a way to deal with it.”

Something in her dad’s eyes seemed to both break and strengthen. Resignation. Acceptance. Determination.

“Okay,” he whispered, jerking forward to wrap her up in a much-needed hug. “Okay. We’ll take it one day at a time. You’re not alone, Maddie. I won’t leave you to face this alone.”

 _Not again_ , neither said but both thought.

Maddie’s hand remained tightly wrapped around the scales.

• • •

They were forming a pattern. More rashes appeared, and she grew to expect the slow revelation of scales as she scratched away the dead, flaky skin. Her wrists matched, the bands extending a little further up her arm than the original had. The tops of her shoulders were the next to develop little patches, which grew to curve down her back along her shoulder blades and to trail off on the sides of her upper arms.

There was a small line that dripped down her spine to gather at the small of her back. Those had been the itchiest. By the time some began to scatter themselves around her ankles and up towards her knees, her heart no longer raced in fear and trepidation at the sight of new rashes. The ones that eventually formed delicate arcs from her temples to the tops of her cheeks around the outside edge of her eyes only served to annoy her.

The few doctors who were allowed to know what was happening were bewildered, both at the scales’ progression and Maddie’s reaction to them. Though, as one told her father: better her be irritated than terrified. 

Hiding the mutations, as they’d taken to calling them, became completely impossible after the ones on her face appeared. They asked her to stay in certain areas of the different bases she was taken to, and while she appreciated the obvious effort to keep her condition from going public, cabin fever was quick to set in even after a transfer.

She sat on a windowsill at a research outpost in Maine, watching the distant ocean waves surging up and over the rocky shoreline. Her fingers idly traced the newest rash to form, a smattering of irritated skin all along her neck. It wasn’t a solid patch like the rest, but they had no way to tell if that meant the mutations were evolving or if it was just due to the location of the new scales.

“I’m getting real tired of hearing ‘I don’t know,’” she said quietly. A huff of breath against the chilly windowpane created a large spot of fogged condensation. She doodled a tiny Mothra.

Behind her, her dad sighed. He was looking over some papers, probably agonizing over test results that left them no closer to answers. “I know, kiddo.” His voice went muffled, and Maddie didn’t need to turn around to know he was roughly scrubbing his face with his hands. “They want to do more brain scans tomorrow.”

She threw her head back and groaned. “Why bother? There was nothing on the last one, or the one before that, or any of the ones before _that_.”

This research facility was supposed to specialize in the Titans’ brain waves. They did their job well, but as Maddie had and would continue to point out, she was still human. Scales or not, things like that hadn’t changed.

“They just want to cover all their bases.”

She didn’t respond. It felt like ages since she’d been let outside for anything other than a quick dash to an Osprey. They weren’t exactly locking her up like a freak of nature, but the idea of sneaking out for even just a few hours sounded more appealing each day.

Maddie set her jaw. Let them have their brain scans. Tomorrow night, she was going outside whether they liked it or not. If she was lucky, no one would even notice her brief absence. If she was unlucky? Well, she’d just have to learn to be stealthier for the next time.

• • •

Between the isolation of the base itself and the lack of rebellion on her part, security wasn’t all that tight. Once the night shift had taken full effect, she creeped out of her room and down the hall to the nearest lounge. It had nice big windows right next to a climbable-looking tree. It’d be best to avoid the lower levels where the main offices were.

After popping a screen out and hiding it behind a couch, Maddie sat on the windowsill and spun around, leaving her legs dangling high above the ground. The fresh air was already improving her mood.

Fearless, she pushed off the building and latched onto the nearest sturdy branch. It barely moved as she maneuvered her way on top of it, and then across to the trunk. Within minutes, she was on the ground.

Since she had a security pass, none of the sensors would go off at her presence, and she knew that no one bothered to check logs unless a problem came up. So long as nothing happened tonight, her temporary escape would go unnoticed.

It wasn’t until she’d put some distance between herself and the base, heading in the direction of the shoreline, that Maddie allowed herself to laugh. It’d been even easier than she’d hoped for.

Leaving her shoes on a flat boulder, she trailed closer to the water’s edge. The gentle waves brushed against her toes, and to her surprise, it wasn’t as cold as she expected. Delighted, Maddie rolled her pant legs up to above her knees and splashed deeper into the ocean. The rocks were slick with algae beneath her feet, but it only served to make her adventure more fun.

Hopping from one to the next, she challenged herself to see how fast she could go before she slipped and soaked her clothes. It went remarkably well until some seaweed brushed against her leg, startling her into flailing right off her slimy perch.

Despite discovering the water to be a comfortable temperature against her feet and legs, she still expected to feel the cold shock of being fully dunked. Instead, it was only pleasantly cool. It actually felt really nice against the rashes’ constant itchiness. Maddie resurfaced to take a big gulp of air, not having taken one before falling in.

She floated there in the shallows, slowly circulating her arms to keep from sinking. Her clothes—pajama pants and a comfy long-sleeved shirt—weren’t uncomfortably heavy, at least, not enough to drive her out of the water.

Tilting her head back to look up into the starry sky, Maddie allowed herself to simply exist. She could go back to worry about her future tomorrow. Tonight was for her. It felt like she was caught between worlds, with all of space spread out above her and the ocean cradling her with the weightless sensation of floating.

The faint sound of metal attracted her attention after a while, though it took a bit longer to muster the strength to break her drifting reverie. Not too far from the shore was a buoy, one of the tall ones. She hadn’t seen it before because of the way the land jutted out.

It rocked gently in the waves. With a mental shrug, Maddie turned over and began to swim towards it. Her dad would lose his mind if he knew what she was doing, swimming in the ocean with no supervision out in the middle of nowhere. It wasn’t the most rebellious thing she could do as a young teenager, but being confined to out-of-the-way Monarch bases kinda made most other things impossible.

She’d take what she could get, and as she laid a hand on the cold metal of the buoy, she couldn’t help but grin. With a little maneuvering, she managed to pull herself up onto it, laughing as it tilted wildly until she could center her weight.

The water was nearly black in the darkness. It must’ve been after one in the morning by then. Maddie hadn’t realized how far from her starting point she’d wandered—she couldn’t even see the outpost.

Exhilaration rushed through her. It was easy to pretend she was completely alone, no one else for miles around. The thought was strangely appealing.

Gripping the metal lattice that made up the tall tower part, Maddie faced the sprawling ocean. There was nothing for as far as the eye could see, the horizon line completely lost between the inky black of the sky and the shimmering water.

Maddie sucked in a deep breath and channeled the bravest part of herself. No unexplainable mutations were going to scare her. The unknowns about her future wouldn’t drag her down. She’d survived being in the thick of _two_ battles between Titans, three if you counted the one in Antarctica. She’d been taught how to keep going when the going was beyond tough.

She held the air in her lungs until it burned, and then she screamed with all her might into the fathomless dark. Her defiance matched the fury she’d felt in Boston, face to face with her would-be murderer.

The slightest echo of her voice ricocheted off the ocean. Satisfied, Maddie turned away and leapt back into the water to return to shore. She allowed herself to plunge as deep as possible, surrounded by nothingness, before making for the surface.

It would be best to head back now and seek a new adventure another night, rather than continue to wander at risk of her absence being discovered. She’d wait until she was just dry enough not to drip everywhere, and then she’d go back to playing the obedient patient—not test subject, she’d sooner take her chances in the ocean than let herself be really _tested_ on.

Trying to find answers was one thing. Exploring the limits regardless of her feelings on the matter would be another.

Maddie finally hit the shallows, and she stood to trudge the rest of the way. Funny enough, the rashes on her neck didn’t itch at all, but she found herself rubbing at a tingly feeling in the unmarred portions of her cheeks. She hoped she wasn’t getting more scales on her face.

• • • 

It took a lot of effort to keep a smug smile off her face at breakfast the next morning. Her little stunt appeared to remain her personal secret. Her dad had greeted her tiredly but that was nothing new. The whole mutation thing honestly seemed to stress him out more than her. It was nice to be so worried over, though she wished it wouldn’t affect his health.

She’d overheard him confess to someone on the phone once—probably one of their friends from Castle Bravo, who’d been told the truth early on—that he often had nightmares about what might happen to his daughter. The worst ones, according to her eavesdropping, featured her in great pain while hazmat-suited scientists picked her apart.

It was morbid and disturbing to imagine, so for a few days, she’d admittedly kept a slightly suspicious eye on the few and far between Monarch employees who were in the know. No one was anything but kind and understanding and supportive, though.

Based on the dark smudges beneath his eyes, her dad hadn’t slept well. She felt a little guilty, knowing he’d likely been tossing and turning last night while she’d been out swimming.

She made sure to keep her shoulder pressed against his arm as they ate, in both silent support and as a reminder that she was there and safe and not actually suffering from the mutations. So far.

They were meant to head down to talk about the results of yesterday’s scans, but as they stood in the elevator outside the cafeteria, her dad kept glancing at her strangely.

“What?” Maddie finally asked. There was no way he could know what she’d done just by looking at her.

He didn’t answer right away. “There’s something on your…” he finally said, gesturing at his own cheek. “It looks like paint or something.”

“ _Paint?_ ” she repeated. “I can’t even remember the last time I used paint for anything.”

“Did someone flick some at you?”

She shook her head, at a complete loss. Pulling her sleeve over her palm, Maddie reached up and rubbed vigorously where her dad had pointed out on himself.

The elevator dinged open, though they didn’t do much more than step off.

She pulled her hand away. “Better?” Her cheek felt warm from how rough she’d been.

Her dad’s eyes widened as he leaned closer. “I think they’re… freckles, Maddie.”

Giving him a look, she snorted. “You mistook freckles for paint?” She took a few steps away, ready to get the meeting over with. It wasn’t like she didn’t already know what they would say—sorry, there were no new developments, we’ll try again in a few days. Her dad’s answer stopped her in her tracks.

“They’re _blue_.”

• • •

The doctors at that particular outpost were even less helpful than others they’d met with over the past few months. Their expertise was in brain waves, not glowing blue freckles.

Because that was the newest part of her mutation, apparently. Not just blue freckles, but _glowing_ blue freckles. Bioluminescent, according to one of the woman with an interest in algae.

Algae. Oh, no. No, no, there was no way she’d done this to herself by going swimming. It had to be a coincidence, nothing more than a fluke. It wasn’t like she’d swallowed anything or even really touched it beyond stepping on the rocks. Algae couldn’t _do_ this to a person, whether or not their body was already undergoing mutations. Right?

She thought about bringing it up, but… _freedom_. There was no way they’d be as lax about security if she confessed to having snuck out, and that meant being even more restricted. If they started, what, guarding her door or locking her in—she wouldn’t be able to pretend at being anything other than a prisoner.

Besides, it wasn’t like they could do anything about it now. What was done, was done. She had glowing freckles and shiny scales. It honestly could’ve been so much worse.

With the new development, Monarch decided brain scans weren’t going to get them anywhere. Better to bring her to someone who specialized in blood. Again. Plans to have the Russells transferred were immediately put underway.

 _Fantastic._ So now she had a bunch of needles to look forward to.

They were to leave the next afternoon, giving them plenty of time to pack up and say goodbye. The outpost they were being sent to this time was much stricter about people coming and going, since they dealt with the highly coveted blood of Titans. And that meant no way would Maddie be able to sneak out of there.

Whether or not her midnight swim caused the freckles, she was decided. She’d go out again that night. It might just be her last chance to have a bit of freedom for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I get inspiration from just about anywhere, and I swear I saw a post a while ago that mentioned bioluminescent freckles. Was it specifically for the Godzilla fandom? Was it for something entirely unrelated? I have no idea and I haven’t been able to find the post since, so. Thanks, whoever made it, you’re cool.
> 
> Also!! This is my 50th fic posted here!! I never would've imagined writing so many stories, much less being brave enough to share them!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first update of 2020! Hope you guys enjoy it!

Maddie made her escape the same way as before, half an hour or so after midnight. Before slipping away, she’d gone into her bathroom and sat on the counter in the dark, tracing over the freckles with her eyes.

Under ordinary lighting, it was easy to mistake them for paint or makeup, or even to miss them entirely. But with nothing to outshine them, their luminescence was surprisingly bright. It looked like someone had taken the liquid from a glow-stick and flicked it over her cheeks like she was the canvas for a splatter painting. They were also unmistakably blue—almost familiarly so, though she couldn’t quite remember where she’d seen something like it before—and she’d spent some time earlier searching the internet for pictures of bioluminescent algae. Some of the results were surprisingly beautiful.

She wondered, as she took a detour through the sparse forest area, if more of them would show up after she went swimming again. It could just be a fluke, an unexpected progression of the mutation—it wasn’t like they could explain anything else about what her body was up to—and she’d be left to wonder what the next surprise would be.

Having actually bothered to prepare, when Maddie reached a sort of cliff hanging out over the ocean, not far from the buoy, she was ready to jump in. She’d left her shoes behind entirely, and confident in how unbothered by the water’s chill she’d been last night, she’d opted for a pair of loose shorts and a t-shirt this time.

Maddie considered the distance between herself and the water for only a moment before taking a running jump into the air. She cried out in delight as she flipped around, managing to right herself just in time to avoid bellyflopping. Suspended in the dark depths, she waited a long few seconds before swimming upwards.

She splashed around for a while and found a protruding rock formation perfect for climbing up to leap from. The waves were slightly choppier than the previous night, and the air a bit colder, but she was unbothered.

Eventually, she settled at the top of the rock to enjoy the breeze. After so long being confined to research outposts and the back hallways of busy bases, the pleasant ache of physical activity felt amazing. Maybe once they were done with the next set of tests that she was sure wouldn’t give them the answers they wanted, she could convince both her dad and Monarch to let them have a break. They could settle out in the middle of nowhere, in a place where they wouldn’t have to worry about the wrong person seeing what was happening to Maddie. Her dad still owned that remote cabin in Colorado. It was worth a shot, at least.

Her heart significantly calmer, the urge to keep moving overtook Maddie. She stood and dove into the ocean with the intention of going back to the buoy. When she reached it, however, she bobbed in the water with her palm pressed to the metal and looked out at the seemingly never-ending expanse of black.

It was stupid, but the only sure thing in her immediate future was a frustrating amount of blood draws. She wanted to be stupid.

Maddie left the buoy behind and continued swimming farther and farther from the shore. The waves hardly slowed her down, and the excited adrenaline pumping through her veins made her feel like she could keep going forever.

When she finally stopped to see how far she’d gone, Maddie’s eyes widened in surprise. The distance between herself and safety was even greater than she had guessed. She blew out a breath and submerged the bottom portion of her face, until she was just barely able to keep breathing out of her nose without sucking up water.

The light from her freckles was bright enough to reflect against the ocean in the darkness. She tread in place, not fighting the waves that lifted her up and down. Finally, she maneuvered herself so she could relax while floating on her back.

Maddie closed her eyes and listened to the sea’s particular brand of silence.

If she had opened her eyes at any point over the next few minutes, she would’ve seen the way the water below her slowly lit up with an identical glow as her freckles. If she had looked down beneath the surface, she would’ve seen the source of the unnatural light. But she didn’t, so after a long few minutes, the water gradually darkened again, until there was nothing left to notice when she finally began the long swim back to land.

And therefore, Maddie had no way of knowing about the curious Titan she left behind, watching her every move from deep beneath her, who suddenly had quite a bit to think about.

• • •

Standing in her bathroom the next morning with the lights off and her shirt in her hands, Maddie twisted this way and that. Whether by coincidence or her second outing, there were new freckles. These ones covered the tops of her shoulders and the back of her neck. There were even more on her face, too, trailing over her nose and dotting the downward curves of her jaw.

Besides that, the skin covering the scales on her neck was gone, leaving them fully revealed. It usually took longer and a lot more scratching for them to reach this stage.

She contemplated whether she should bring these new developments up or leave them to be discovered by someone else later. It wasn’t like anything could be done, and besides—she kinda liked the freckles.

Decision made, she finished getting ready before leaving to have breakfast. Part of a quote from a movie came to her as she walked down the hallway, something about how worrying meant suffering twice.

That was a philosophy she could get behind. Nothing could change the past, after all, and while Maddie wouldn’t mind having some answers, she refused to let these changes ruin her life. She’d talk to her dad, see if she could help him realize that for himself.

He was already seated in the little cafeteria, though it didn’t look like he’d been there long. After getting her own food, she dropped down beside him.

“Good morning, Dad.”

He smiled, not looking quite as tired this morning as he had yesterday.

“Sleep well?” she asked, reaching for her toast.

“Well enough. I can’t say I’m not looking forward to heading someplace with more cheerful weather.”

They both turned to the windows on the far wall. It was raining out, and though the weather hadn’t been all bad during their stay, the prospect of relocating to a base in Florida certainly had its appeal.

Maddie almost said something about how it’d actually been pretty nice the past two nights before remembering her dad was unaware of her being outside at all for weeks. She took a large bite and hummed in agreement.

Her dad took that as his cue to keep a conversation going. “Since we won’t be too far, Ilene said she’d look into getting permission for a group of them to come out for a visit.”

Perking up immediately, Maddie grinned. “That’d be awesome,” she said. It felt like ages since she’d last seen any Monarch employees who she considered friends.

“I told her we’d definitely appreciate it. Apparently, they’re all looking for a chance to take a break.” Her dad lifted his glass of orange juice.

Maddie frowned. “Is everything okay?”

After swallowing, he told her, “They’re fine, it’s just been a rough couple of months observation-wise, from what she told me. A while ago, Godzilla started acting funny. Erratic behavior, unexplainable aggression—he’s gotten close to Castle Bravo a few times, enough to scare them into thinking he might attack. Everyone’s on edge and no one can figure out what’s causing him to freak out like this.”

“That sucks. He’s not sick or something, is he?”

“I… don’t have any idea.” Mark laughed. “I’m sure they’ve looked into that as a possibility, though. Get this: Ilene said they actually lost him the other day.”

Maddie’s paused before she could take a bite of her scrambled eggs. “They _lost_ him? But that means he completely left his territory, doesn’t it?”

“Yep. I don’t know about you, but I definitely understand why they all want a break. Losing an entire Titan—not just _a_ Titan, but the one Titan they’re supposed to keep an eye on—it can’t be going over well with the government.”

Pushing her food around with her fork, Maddie thought for a moment. “I wonder what would make him leave like that. It must have been something important.”

“All they know is that sometime during the night before last, he took off through the hollow earth tunnels. He was gone long before they could get a read on him. Without the data to predict a likely path, there’s no finding him until he lets himself be found.”

Shaking her head in amusement, Maddie imagined him sneaking around just like she had. Funny, they’d even both slipped away on the same night… _Wait_. The brilliant blue glow of Godzilla’s spines when he charged up his atomic breath—that was were she’d seen the color of her freckles before.

It had to be a coincidence.

She looked down at the scales around her wrist. The dark gray, almost black scales. Like Godzilla’s. And—he was water based. She’d been—and the water’s temperature hadn’t bothered her.

They suspected her mutations were caused by exposure to Titan radiation, combined with something in her that had been jumpstarted by Ghidorah’s lightning. It sounded crazy, but hey, she was developing scales and glowing freckles, so she had no room to judge. But—no one had mentioned the possibility that her mutations were specifically linked to any Titan in particular.

Arguably, she’d been around Godzilla the least, out of all her close-encounters. It didn’t make any sense, and yet.

The question was, did this change everything or nothing at all?

• • •

Godzilla had developed the itch soon after he’d finished recovering from the final battle. It lingered in his head, an absent thought that he was missing something. The feeling was familiar, but not enough to make him remember exactly what the itch meant.

Time passed and the sensation worsened. His moods darkened. He grew restless, constantly searching for something he couldn’t name, and becoming more and more frustrated when he _couldn’t find it_.

It had nothing to do with his fellow Titans, he knew that much. They were all behaving as they readjusted to being among humans. There was no usurper threatening his territory. The humans hadn’t made any attempts on his life since the bomb that stole his breath. By all accounts, everything was fine.

So _why_ did he feel ready to tear apart the world if it meant finding what he was missing? The absence of whatever it was physically hurt, and it was _wrong_ that he didn’t have it, and it would continue to be wrong until he found it and tucked it close until his heart stopped aching.

His tail lashed as he swam and the star-fire in his chest flared with the instinct to hunt and hurt anything standing between him and the source of the itch. He’d made several passes at the humans in their little base out of some tangled mix of anger—because they had _exactly_ the sort of track record that made him suspect their involvement—and frustration. If only they could understand him, then he could demand answers or help.

It hit him one night with the force of a nuke—and he would know. The distant, untouchable itch sharpened into something much clearer. It burned inside him, a comfortable heat instead of a torturous one, and he knew with absolute clarity, for the first time, where he needed to go.

Godzilla dove with a sense of frantic urgency he’d rarely felt before. He was the King, he wasn’t supposed to do _frantic_. It didn’t matter, though, not when he was so close to putting an end to his misery, so close to finding what he’d been missing, so close to being whole again.

He spun furiously through the tunnels so far beneath human notice, racing against the possibility of losing _it_ again. Before he could even cross half the distance to his destination, an echo shot through him, mind and soul.

It was the scream of a human, one not of fear but defiance. It was strong and angry and he could detect the smallest sliver of a loneliness like his own.

And it was then that he remembered how it was in the beginning, when Titans were as common to see as anything, when they were respected and looked upon with awe. They were seen as gods, and like any deity figures throughout legends and myths, they had their favored cities.

The people in those cities, who doubtlessly interacted with them more than the rest of the world’s population, spent years exposed to their Titan’s radiation. Such things changed them. They became stronger, healthier, they reflected aspects of the Titan in question, and most importantly, particularly special people formed bonds.

Priests, Godzilla thought they might’ve called themselves, or something like it. He’d never asked any of his fellow Titans, but the wording had never sat well with him. Forming a bond was meant to be a gift, not a duty or obligation. Not a _job_.

Minutes after the echo faded, he lost all sense of where the human was. He roared his frustration as he slowed his pace a little. Best not to wear himself out. He had his heading, and it would only be a matter of time before this human who, impossibly, had the beginnings of a bond stirring between them revealed their location again.

Godzilla’s decreased speed left him better able to think beyond his next move. He set the question of the human’s identity to the side for the moment, and instead contemplated himself.

It’d been so long since he’d held a bond with a human—obviously long enough for him to entirely forget the particular sensation of one forming—that he found himself at a loss. Had the bonds always torn at him like this? Though time and hibernation had helped him forget the empty ache of losing those fragile little ties around his heart, the idea of having one again… Unwittingly, joy sent his spines pulsing with light, quickly followed by warm anticipation.

Whoever this little human was, however they’d ended up forming a bond with him, their presence was a gift for Godzilla himself.

These humans didn’t know of the bonds, what it meant to have one, or even the physical aspects.

His eyes widened, then narrowed. The physical aspects. There was no way his human _wouldn’t_ be freaking out about what was happening to them. Children back then, even with knowledge and reassurance, had found the appearance of scales across their bodies to be a frightening experience.

His human had screamed defiance and anger. Were they in danger? He knew how humans these days were—was his human being punished because of those changes? Studied? Experimented on? _Was someone hurting his human?_

An infuriated roar burst out of him, shaking the earth. If they’d been hurt, it didn’t matter who or what stood in his way—the world thought he’d been dangerous and a threat before? The retribution he’d rain down on anyone who caused so much as a sting of pain or fear in his human would leave the rest of them begging for mercy.

Hurting humans with bonds had been a punishment worthy of death back then, when there were dozens to a Titan. He had _one_ now, one who he wasn’t even fully connected to yet. Let them see what hell he would raise if anyone tried to take his human from him.

Godzilla emerged from the tunnel early the next morning. He was in the general area where he’d sensed them, but anything more specific was beyond his grasp. Having never been so far from the other side of a forming bond, in this, he had little experience. Given the stretch of shoreline, he could merely guess that his human had only become known to him while in the ocean.

He could recall Mothra mentioning once that her newly bonded humans were hardest to sense when they were underground. Perhaps it had something to do each Titan’s preferred element? And only when great distances were involved.

Which meant, as much as it aggravated him, there was little to be done until his human returned to the sea. As soon as the bond was complete, there was absolutely nothing that would keep him from knowing where they were at all times. Until then, he turned to the depths in search of food.

As far from the surface as he was, Godzilla was unaware when night had fallen. It came as a surprise, then, when the developing bond went bright. There was only a brief pause in his movements before he took off, chasing the other end down.

It flickered between being there and gone every now and then, as if his human was leaving the water only to return moments later. Hopefully it was from a sense of playfulness and not cruel tests or the like. It vanished for longer just as he got close.

When the bond came back, stronger than ever, he was able to track the small figure cutting across the surface as if they were born to do it. The human paused briefly at a floating chunk of metal before continuing on, where the water truly became deep.

Godzilla’s spines flared, and it was only with great effort that he was able to keep their light too dim to be noticed. Though all signs pointed to this human being _his,_ he didn’t want to give himself away until he was sure.

After crossing a significant distance, the human—he would guess them to be relatively young—stopped. They seemed to ponder the distance they’d crossed before moving to float on their back.

It was as good a chance as any for Godzilla to get close without causing a panic. He rose up beneath the human—a female, he realized—and his spines immediately brightened fully with the confirmation: this was the human he’d somehow forged a bond with.

He scented the water and nearly huffed in surprise.

It was her, the girl from Boston. The same one who reached out to Mothra. Him and his Queen hadn’t had much of a chance to converse during her brief return, but she had mentioned what happened during her awakening.

She didn’t seem hurt or scared or angry—and she was out here, relaxing in the ocean in the dark of the night as if it were the most natural thing. Amazingly, she didn’t seem to notice him.

The furious storm in his heart finally calmed at seeing his little human safe and sound. His spines gradually stopped glowing, no longer in anticipation of leveling whatever arrogant humans thought they could imprison her.

Being out here so late made him suspect she wasn’t allowed to swim during the day, so it was likely she was at least somewhat watched over. But if she wasn’t actively trying to escape while free, then Godzilla had to believe she wasn’t entirely being held against her will.

In fact, he could smell the faint traces of a parent, and the scent was familiar to him. Her sire had been one of the people to steal into his home and set a nuke off in his face. The dark-haired man on the human warship. So he was with her, and if he was a good sire, he would be making sure she was treated well.

Godzilla watched as she eventually made to swim back to shore. It took everything in him not to reach out and simply take her, hang the consequences. But she was young, and though he ached to complete the bond, he had promised long ago that he would never separate families before they were ready.

The girl’s sire would need to know about this. And there was the problem he suddenly found himself facing: humans didn’t remember things like the connection they once had to the Titans, didn’t know what her changes entailed. Godzilla wouldn’t be able to explain in any words they could understand unless the bond was made whole, but if the bond was made whole, there would be no choice but to separate the girl and her sire, to at least some extent.

As he lost all feeling of their bond once again when she climbed out of the ocean, Godzilla desperately found himself wishing for the counsel of his fellow Titans, especially his Queen. A second set of eyes often found what the first had not seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really do enjoy writing Godzilla's POV. I hope it comes across well. 
> 
> Bless everyone who reads this, because I find no point in posting without an audience. Some of the comments I get make my day ten times better. <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little fluff, a little angst, this is a well-rounded chapter. Also, terribly sorry about the wait, but to be perfectly honest, I had no idea what to do with the plot of this story. As that’s an important component to any story, I’m sure you can see how I was stuck. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Things’ll be picking up soon. >:)

Her dad surprised her with some time outside before they left. Apparently, just as Maddie had expected, they were going to be a bit more confined at their next destination, and the higher ups had graciously given permission for her to spend an hour or so doing whatever, as long as she stayed within sight.

No swimming, though. They were going to leave as soon as her hour was up, so being soaking wet was off the table.

Her dad walked with her for the first half hour or so, having been as restricted as Maddie, before he returned to the base to make sure their bags were packed into the truck taking them to the nearby airstrip, where one of Monarch’s larger transport choppers would be waiting.

Alone again, she sat on the edge of the cliff she’d jumped off the previous night, trying not to feel like she’d be walking into a prison once her hour was up. It was _so_ tempting to just push off and let herself fall into the ocean, see where it would take her.

That line of thinking brought her back to the subject she’d been trying to ignore: did Godzilla have something to do with her mutations? Was he missing because of her, somehow? It was too much of a coincidence, him vanishing the same night as her first little breaking-and-exiting.

If only Titans could talk.

Groaning, Maddie flopped backwards into the damp grass, leaving her lower legs hanging over the edge. She kicked her feet as she stared up into the overcast sky. It was tempting to take a nap, especially once she closed her eyes and focused on the sounds of nature. Who knew when she’d get to hear any of it again?

The leaves rustled, branches creaked. A chorus of birds cried out. Little feet scampered through the underbrush. Waves, powerful and soothing, crashed against the rocks below.

A huff of warm breath.

Maddie’s eyes popped open. Pushing herself up onto her elbows, she stared in absolute amazement at the sight of Godzilla in front of her. He seemed oddly contorted in the relatively shallow water—for a Titan like him, anyway—and though rising up would’ve helped, he didn’t.

It took only a second to realize why. She glanced over her shoulder to confirm her thought, and, yeah, he was intentionally staying low enough for the cliff to block him from the base.

He watched her, and Maddie was suddenly hyperaware of all the scales visibly dotting her body. And the freckles—which her dad and everyone else still thought only existed on her cheeks.

“I was right,” she whispered, sitting up the rest of the way. “It—you have something to do with all this, don’t you?” She rotated her wrists, showing off the full bands encircling her arms.

He huffed again, softly, gently. Was it so no one else heard, or so he didn’t scare her? Maddie wished she knew.

“Is it…” She hesitated, tracing over the edge, where her skin met scale. “It’s not dangerous, is it?”

A quiet rumble, then, and a slight shake of his head. No. His eyes stayed focused on her like there was nothing else that could possibly command his attention. It might’ve been unnerving, if she didn’t feel so relieved. Though there hadn’t been any pain or negative side effects, the one thing she hadn’t been able to reassure herself with true confidence was that the mutations wouldn’t eventually end horribly.

To have that nagging fear laid to rest was the sweetest relief. Maddie thought she might even be able to like her changes, instead of simply accept them, if they posed no danger.

“Good. That’s.” She breathed out. “That’s a relief. I mean, I didn’t _think_ so, but I—we—are kinda clueless about—” she gestured at herself, even though many of the mutations were hidden from sight— “all of this.”

Godzilla rumbled again, though the pattern was different. Maybe Maddie was just reading into things, but she thought he sounded almost apologetic.

“It’s fine,” she reassured him automatically. “I don’t really mind it all that much. Except for other people’s reactions.” She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed frustratedly. “And I don’t like having to stay inside all day, every day.”

Farther out in the water, the tip of Godzilla’s tail breached the surface and smacked back down. Something about the ocean? And as a response to her being stuck inside—

“Oh. Oh!” Maddie kicked her legs back and forth in open air as she smiled. “Did you see me swimming? Yeah, I snuck out.”

Two puffs of air, which was both self-explanatory and confirmed her thoughts on whether Godzilla’s disappearance from his territory had anything to do with her first outing.

“Twice, yep.” A breath of laughter escaped her. “Don’t tell my dad, okay?”

He sank into the water a little, giving off a solid impression of mischief. His eyes never wavered away from her. It abruptly hit Maddie who exactly she was sitting in front of.

“I should be scared, shouldn’t I?” She said, and somehow, Godzilla’s eyes looked so old. “Of what’s happening to me, of being so close to you. That’s just human instinct, right? Self-preservation.”

But if her human instincts weren’t kicking in, if being only a yard or two away from Godzilla’s mouth—full of teeth, full of fire—wasn’t even _phasing_ her, if she felt as comfortable now as she did in her dad’s safe, warm presence…

“A different instinct,” Maddie whispered, reaching up to feel the scales curling around her eyes. “A not-human one.”

A single, regal dip of his head was all the answer she needed.

Maddie rubbed her arms as they erupted in goosebumps. “I wish…” she started, only to wonder what she really wished for.

Did she wish the mutations had never happened in the first place? Or maybe that they weren’t a mystery to everyone who knew of them, that she could just have some concrete answers? Those weren’t the answers she thought of first. If only Titans could talk, indeed.

“I guess I wish you could explain it all,” she finally said. “It’d probably be a better explanation than anything one of us could come up with. Oh well. If wishes were horses, and all that.”

Godzilla leaned closer, as if he wanted to do just that, as if he would have imparted secrets to her if only there wasn’t a great big language barrier between them. She could see the the way his eyes almost looked to be made of individual strands of color all woven together to create an effect similar to fire.

From a distance, she heard her dad call her name, which meant it was time to leave. This was some pretty bad timing, in her opinion. The answer to what was happening to her was right in front of her—provided Maddie could phrase all her questions to have a yes or no answer, or otherwise keep them relatively simple—but instead, they were off to have someone stare at her blood _yet again_.

She stood up, calling back that she’d be there in a sec.

Maddie sent one last longing glance at the ocean. “I’d go with you right now if I could,” she admitted. And oh, how she wanted to just take that leap off the cliff, take the plunge into whatever this connection between her and Godzilla meant. If any number of things had been different about her situation, she might’ve done it, too.

But she had to be reasonable about this. And quick, or someone might come looking for her and get the surprise of their life. “They’re taking us down to Florida, which is in your territory,” she told Godzilla. “I—I’ll go with them and try to explain some of this to my dad. And then, I guess we’ll have to see what happens.”

She hugged herself around her stomach and tried not to feel sick. “He might take it badly. Worst case scenario, they lock me up and… yeah.”

The growl Godzilla released was probably only as quiet as it was to avoid detection. Fresh goosebumps raised up along Maddie’s arms, and she knew with a deep, unshakeable certainty that if Monarch tried something like that, _he_ _would not stand for it_.

“Best case scenario,” she continued, unable to keep from smiling at the wordless reassurance of his protection, “he calls off the tests and stuff and just lets us figure things out without any pressure or outside observers.”

She paused and frowned. Making eye contact with the Titan, she sighed, nearly in tandem with his own little huff. “Yeah, that’s probably not going to happen. But I can hope.”

If she was honest with herself, Maddie knew the outcome would probably end up somewhere in-between the worst and best. Her dad would probably freak and go gray with worry, but he’d probably also acknowledge the truth of the situation—there was no going back, so all they could do now was work with what they had. And that just happened to be Godzilla.

Squaring her shoulders, Maddie nodded. “Wish me luck,” she said. “I’ll see you soon. If things don’t go too badly, I’ll try to slip away as soon as I can. But, I mean, don’t wait up. I doubt I’ll be able to sneak out like I did here.”

Which could pose a problem. Now that she knew who to go to for answers, it royally sucked to have all chances for contact cut off.

Godzilla rumble-chirred and slowly, carefully, leaned forward until he was close enough for Maddie to reach out and touch. She did without hesitation, flattening her palm against his warm scales. Her own perfectly matched his in color.

It took a hell of a lot of effort, but Maddie managed to force herself to step back. Her hand dropped limply to her side as she resisted the urge to screw being reasonable and smart about this, and give in to the impulse to just _jump_.

“Soon,” she whispered, as much a promise to him as a reminder to herself.

• • •

Maddie waited until they’re in the air to gather her courage. She just has to remember she’s faced down bigger and badder things than her overprotective father.

“Maybe Ilene will have news about Mothra’s egg,” he said, “especially since her sister’s leading the new team.”

She only nodded, distracted with trying to come up with a good opening sentence. Hey Dad, I think Godzilla specifically has something to do with my mutations. How, you ask? Because I was just talking to him, right before we left. It makes sense too, kinda, because I’m pretty sure the freckles came from me swimming. Oh, when did I go swimming? Just the past two nights, without anyone’s knowledge or permission.

Yeah. No. There was absolutely nothing good about any of that.

“Hey.” Her dad nudged his shoulder against her. “You all right?”

Maddie swallowed. “Yeah, I just. I was thinking,” she started haltingly, “that maybe… we could stop. With the tests. Like, entirely. Uh. Because, and—hear me out—but I don’t think, uh, that they’re helping.” She considered smiling at the end, but decided against it. There was no way it wouldn’t look entirely fake.

Her dad stared at her for a moment, a little wrinkle between his eyebrows. “Are you nervous?” he finally asked. “I know getting your blood taken a lot isn’t fun, but they really just want to help, Maddie. And I know sometimes the truth is scary, but don’t you want to know more about the mutations?”

“Funny you should mention that, actually.” Maddie glanced back toward the other end of the chopper, but no one seemed to be paying any attention to them. “Because I have a different way to find out more. And my way, I think, is more legitimate.”

“And how’s that?”

“Well.” She laughed a little, in an attempt to lighten her dad up. “You see. I met someone who has experience with my mutations.” Which had to be true, because of all the things she’d gotten from Godzilla during their ‘conversation,’ confusion hadn’t been one of them. He absolutely knew what was up.

Her dad shifted to face her entirely. “Really? That’s great!”

“Right?”

“You don’t look as excited as I would’ve guessed you be,” he told her. “What’s the catch?”

“I don’t think you’ll be very happy about who I’m talking about. But—” She paused and closed her mouth with a grimace. “Just, please promise to at least not freak out?”

“That bad?” He chuckled, but when her dad noticed she wasn’t laughing with him, he turned serious. “Okay, so it is that bad. Who is it?”

Sudden doubt drowned her, and Maddie felt sick at all the different, horrible outcomes this conversation could have.

“Who is it, Maddie?”

“It’s Godzilla,” she whispered. She felt her dad go tense. “I just really think—I mean, sure, having some factual knowledge might be nice, but—if I had to choose,” and here her voice went even softer and quieter, “I’d prefer the sorts of things I think he could help with.” She bit her lip and waited.

He was quiet for a moment before saying _entirely_ too loudly for what she thought he understood to be a secret conversation, “ _Godzilla?”_

“Dad!” Maddie hissed, glancing back again. No one seemed to have heard his outburst, or at least, if they did, they didn’t think anything of it.

“Maddie! You can’t—what does that even _mean_ —”

“He seemed like he wanted to help!”

“When did you even— _where_ did you even—he’s missing!”

“No,” Maddie said, drawing it out a little. “He’s just not where anyone expected him to be. And just today, actually, I haven’t been meeting him in secret for a while or anything, I swear.”

Her dad pinched dragged his hands down his face with a groan. “Oh, it’s too early for that. I should still have a few years before I have to worry about you meeting with boys in secret, much less a _Titan!_ ”

“Dad! And he's not even why I—” Realizing exactly where that sentence was going, Maddie clamped her mouth shut. But alas, it was too late for her.

After muttering something that might’ve been a prayer or a curse under his breath, her dad said despairingly, “Please tell me you didn’t sneak out of the base.”

Maddie looked away with a hum.

“You—!”

“We were talking about Godzilla, right?” she interrupted him.

He took a few deep breaths with his eyes closed, and she would have bet money that he was counting down from ten or something in his head. “Explain,” he finally said, sounding a little bit choked and looking like he’d sucked on a lemon. “I promise to listen, okay, if you promise to tell me everything.”

And that—that was a deal Maddie could get behind. “Cross my heart,” she said, before starting her story with the first night she went out.

Neither of them noticed the way one of the crew kept darting glances at them, nor the way he seemed to linger near them as they spoke quietly.

• • •

They landed on the roof of the Florida base. Maddie hopped off the chopper as soon as she was allowed to, eager to feel the sun. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, reveling in the fresh air.

She felt lighter, after the long conversation with her dad. Though he was hesitant about the whole thing, he could reluctantly agree with her on one point: despite not having a solid way to communicate, if Godzilla really did have experience with mutations like Maddie’s, then it’d be stupid not to take him into account.

It was a better reaction than she’d initially feared. He still wanted to see if anything could be discovered through blood tests, and she’d consented to go through with them. But that was fine, if it made her dad feel better.

Neither of them was sure they should mention Godzilla to anyone. Would that make Monarch’s reaction better or worse? For now, they’d decided to keep quiet about Maddie’s possible connection to the King.

It wasn’t the most ideal, but Maddie could be patient, especially if it made her life easier in the long run.

That being said, within two days of being at the base, she was _this close_ to calling it quits and jumping out a window if that meant escaping.

The similarity her situation had to being an actual prisoner made her skin crawl and stomach turn. She was confined to a single wing, containing little more than her and her dad’s rooms, a lounge with basic kitchen gear, and a bunch of half-full storage rooms, one of which had been converted into the medical room where they took blood samples.

And Maddie knew why they didn’t let her leave, and it wasn’t for her own safety like they’d said.

Only a dozen people interacted with her on any given day, other than her dad—who, it should be noted, was free to come and go from their wing as he pleased—and each encounter lasted an average of five to ten minutes. But that was still long enough for her to notice the way they eyed her scales and freckles. The way no one touched her without gloves on. The way she’d been stared at when they first entered the base and walked by a number of employees.

At least at the last base they’d stayed at, people had been willing to talk to her. To exist around her. To treat her like she wasn’t a freak of nature.

Maddie was strong, in a lot of ways. She’d survived a lot, physically and mentally.

But the looks she kept getting, that no amount of interaction was lessening—she could feel herself crumbling from her heart outward. She picked at her scales and traced constellations between her freckles. And some part of her, despite it all, had grown incredibly fond of those scattered dots of blue light.

She didn’t take advantage of the pitiful freedom she’d been given, though. Most of her time was spent in her room, where at least she could read or listen to music or watch movies or slowly teach herself—with help from videos—how to draw, because it wasn’t like she many options when it came to hobbies. No, even though her room had no windows, and smelled a little weird, and couldn’t maintain a comfortable living temperature no matter what her dad did with the thermostat, it was where she most comfortable. And by that, she meant only marginally less uncomfortable than anywhere else in the wing.

There was one window in the lounge. It had bars over it.

• • •

“It’s killing her, Ilene,” Mark said, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sitting here, absolutely useless, watching her die.”

Very faintly, he heard Rick ask on Ilene’s side of the call, “Is he talking about the mutations?”

“No,” she told him, sounding like she’d turned away from her phone. “The base. They have Maddie confined to an absurd degree.”

“I can’t let this continue,” Mark said. “I—what sort of father would I be if I just sat back and let this keep happening?”

After a brief scuffle on the other end, Rick asked over speakerphone, “Then why don’t you just bail?”

“And do what?” Ilene answered for him. “Go where? If nothing else, Monarch is at least right about being cautious of who knows about the mutations.”

Mark sighed. “But at what cost? What’s the point of ultimate secrecy if it destroys Maddie in the process?”

There was a moment of silence between the three before Rick hesitantly asked, “Would they even let you leave if you wanted to?”

Mark clasped his free hand over his mouth, swallowing back the answer he desperately didn’t want to believe.

“I’ll talk to the board and see if we can come visit sooner,” Ilene promised. “It’s not much, but perhaps a few friendly faces will help.”

“I think it would mean a lot to Maddie just to talk to someone who wasn’t obviously afraid to touch her.”

Rick muttered something too quiet for Mark to catch. “That bad, huh?” he asked.

“Like night and day, between this base and the last.”

Ilene made a thoughtful noise. “While we’re there, Mark, we’ll talk about potential alternatives. Both you and Maddie have experienced isolation from society before. Is it the confinement inside that’s getting to her?”

Nodding to himself, Mark said, “Oh, yeah. Definitely.”

“We’ll figure something out, man. Neither of you deserve this.”

• • •

Things were in motion. Whispers spread. People talked. And the waters outside the coastal base didn’t remain empty for long. Yes, things were in motion, and for better or worse, Maddie was right in the center of it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though I’ve worked out a solid chunk of plot, if anyone wants to suggest something, I’d be super grateful! And here’s [my tumblr](https://star-going-supernova.tumblr.com) if you’re interested!
> 
> Next chapter, expect some more Godzilla POV! And angst! It’s gonna get worse before it gets better, basically. In case anyone needs a reminder or a reason to stick through the pain, I love a happy ending! 
> 
> p.s. you are all awesome and i love you <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet y’all either forgot about this one or thought _I_ forgot about this one. Which, uh, I kinda did, not gonna lie. But here I am at long last with chapter 4! We got a few POVs in this one—sorry about that—and angst! Also, I tried something new with the beginning, hope it works well. 
> 
> Enjoy, y'all!

MONARCH CONFERENCE TRANSCRIPT EXCERPT - #03

_Names have been removed for discretion. Please refer to [redacted] for key; prepare to provide Level Four security clearance._

BLACK: Let us not forget our agreement with public. We have an obligation to remain transparent in our dealings. To keep THE SUBJECT’s condition a secret… while I understand the consequences of outing her, for lack of a better term, the backlash should our deception be discovered could have us shut down for good this time.

WHITE: It’s foolish, is what it is! Can you imagine the reaction? The panic? Everyone and their mother would call it a disease, or the end of the world, or some other nonsense. There were riots in reaction to the Titans themselves, how do you think they’ll take the news of a human _mutating?_ No, no! We keep THE SUBJECT in confinement.

RED: Lock her up, you mean.

BLUE: It’s not ideal, true, but I agree with WHITE on this. Even setting aside the public’s reaction, illegal dealings for scraps of Titans still occur worldwide. I doubt THE SUBJECT’s age or status as a living human would stop them from targeting her as a… source.

YELLOW: Is she though?

BLUE: Is she what?

YELLOW: Still human? Where do we draw the line?

BLUE: If you think that a few patches of scales is enough to dispute her _species,_ I think—

YELLOW: I’m thinking more practically than that. We treat humans very differently from Titans. Which is THE SUBJECT?

BLACK: Are you suggesting we rethink her rights, on the basis that perhaps she shouldn’t qualify as a human?

RED: That’s sick.

YELLOW: If one person thinks it, more will. You reveal her to the world, and you’ll have a hell of a lot of people asking if THE SUBJECT shouldn’t be in a cage.

RED: She’s a child!

YELLOW: You think that will matter to _[redacted]?_

WHITE: We wouldn’t have to worry about that if we never tell the world.

GREEN: If I may?

BLUE: Yes? You’ve been awfully quiet these past few minutes.

GREEN: I’ve looked over some of the test results. Though THE SUBJECT doesn’t show much more than simple surface blemishes, I believe some of the blood tests will will begin to reveal far deeper changes.

BLACK: What does this have to do with whether or not we come clean about her to the public?

GREEN: Patience, BLACK, I’m getting there. Given time, there’s a possibility that we could learn much from her mutations.

RED: Please tell me this isn’t going where I think it is.

GREEN: Don’t be small-minded. Or are you squeamish? Studying her more in-depth could prove beneficial.

WHITE: How in-depth? Do you mean ECGs and blood tests or more invasive procedures? Because it sounds like you’re implying you’d like to dissect a living human child! Have you gone mad?

GREEN: Progress cares little for age.

_[A commotion breaks out, lasting for some minutes, until order is restored.]_

BLUE: This is why we can’t question the legitimacy of whether she deserves human rights! THE SUBJECT is a human child, end of story. You’ll notice “mutations” doesn’t immediately imply a change of species.

RED: What right do we have, anyway?

BLACK: What?

RED: We aren’t THE SUBJECT’s parents, nor guardians. Her father is alive and well. She isn’t employed by Monarch, and last I checked, she certainly hasn’t been signed over to us in any capacity. So who are we to decide what happens to her? We’re an organization, not even a government with ruling authority. If the _[redacted]_ walk away, we certainly have no right to stop them.

BLACK: Someone must make the decision.

BLUE: Has anyone asked her what she wants?

YELLOW: Do you think we need to?

WHITE: That’s enough on whether she’s still human!

GREEN: If we—

BLACK: No, I’ll not hear another word out of you—either of you!

YELLOW: But the idea is in your heads now. You’ve seen the security footage. The way our own employees look at her. Perhaps they haven’t thought the exact words yet, but you can’t, in good faith, tell any of us, much less THE SUBJECT, that she will ever be universally treated as human again.

END OF TRANSCRIPT EXCERPT - #03

• • •

Mark didn’t know who had slid the folder containing the transcript excerpt under his door. It seemed like a warning about what was happening behind closed doors, but was it meant to incite him into action or intimidate him into silence? Was it from a friend, an ally, or someone who sided with the unknown men or women behind the code names Yellow, Green, or even White? People who wanted to lock his little girl up, people who thought she should be picked apart, people who thought she wasn’t even _human_ anymore.

He sat on the edge of his bed, leaning his elbows on his knees while cradling his head in his hands. The transcript sat beside him.

Thoughts swirling, Mark couldn’t figure out what to do. What was best for Maddie? But, no, he couldn’t decide that, or he’d be just like them. Blue had asked if anyone had bothered asking what Maddie wanted, and Mark came to the sickening realization that even he hadn’t.

But those last words, spoken by Yellow, haunted him almost more than the mention of dissection. Because all he could think of was the way Maddie had started wearing long-sleeved shirts despite the heat, how she didn’t chat with the scientists here like they were friends, how she left her room as rarely as she could manage.

Yellow was right. The idea was in people’s heads now, and there wasn’t a thing Mark could do about it. There was a very very strong chance Maddie wasn’t safe here anymore. And if she wasn’t safe in a place like this, where could she be?

He remembered her quiet words about Godzilla on their way to this base and thought he knew the answer.

• • •

Godzilla hadn’t made his rounds through his territory for over a week now, but such responsibilities were far from the forefront of his mind. He lingered in the waters near the base he believed his human had been taken to. Since she hadn’t been able to touch the ocean, he unfortunately couldn't be exactly sure.

For as long as the bond remained incomplete, he was limited in what he could feel through it. The girl could be miles away and he’d have no idea. Worse—she could be in pain. It’d been several days since their meeting. Anything could have happened between then and now.

He spun away in agitation, heading into deeper water—though never straying more than a few minutes swim away—and bared his teeth. No matter how much he might like to, he couldn’t simply break apart the building and be done with it. Such impulsiveness would likely do more harm than good, in the long run.

She’d said she would speak to her sire. If the man was even somewhat reasonable, then there was likely little to worry about. But humans could be cruel and greedy—Godzilla knew that well. Knowledge and memories of such seemed engraved into his very bones sometimes. Would humans turn against one of their own kind if it benefited them in some way? _Yes._ Of that, he had little doubt.

His bonded human had been optimistic. But she was also young. He had eons worth of experience with humanity’s worst. She did not.

Swimming back and forth, Godzilla felt his spines pulse with the powerful desire to _act._ Sitting back and waiting patiently wasn’t in his nature. But this wasn’t a battle. _Yet_. The girl deserved the chance to do things her way—the human way—which was what this situation needed more than his star-fire. He could admit that.

Didn’t mean he wouldn’t charge in there as if his opponent was a fellow Titan instead of a group of humans. Godzilla was lenient in many ways, with both his kind and theirs, but on the subject of his bonded, there would be neither mercy nor compromise.

His soul still itched, but now it also _burned_ with inaction, as he knew who and where his human was but had done nothing about it. The restless anxiety was back, made worse by the quiet fury simmering in his heart at all the _what ifs_ he was tormenting himself with.

Tail lashing, Godzilla came to a decision. He would continue waiting nearby but entirely out of sight. _But._ If there was no sign of his bonded by the end of the moon cycle, he would assume the worst and then the humans would have him to deal with.

Though it didn’t settle his worry entirely, simply having a plan to follow calmed him.

There was one other thing, a concern he wasn’t ignoring so much as he had no way to address it. Humans with bonds usually began showing signs at a young age, younger even than this child had. It happened slowly, the appearance of the outward marks, so they had time to grow into their changes. Then, long after the bond was completed, the… internal changes would begin. Moreover, the parents of those children were knowledgable in and prepared for what was coming.

The girl was not. And she certainly seemed to be developing the simple outward signs faster than he remembered ever happening. A consequence of acquiring the spark of the bond so late? Godzilla could only hope the other changes wouldn’t begin soon.

• • •

Ilene didn’t allow her thoughts to mar the happy smile on her face. Anger and frustration had a time and a place to be expressed; giving Maddie a hug for the first time in months was neither. The poor girl was pale and radiated an internal exhaustion that had little to do with sleep. Her smiles, while genuine, were not as bright as Ilene remembered. Her eyes were dull.

Ilene had laid eyes on Maddie not five minutes ago and could already tell Mark was right: being here, at this base, was killing her.

Rick pulled Maddie into a side hug the moment Ilene released her. He leaned down and whispered something that made her laugh a little. She took a moment to study Mark, who also didn’t seem to be handling the transfer well.

“This is the most she’s smiled in days,” he said lowly. “We can’t keep this up, Ilene.”

She reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “Have you spoken to her about what she wants?”

“Yeah. Out. She asked if we could go to my cabin in Colorado, which would be better than here, at least.”

Unless she was mistaken, there was hesitance in his voice. “Is it not your first choice?”

Mark shook his head as Rick and Maddie finished talking. “I’ll explain more later. But I think the mountains aren’t the best option right now.”

“So, what’s on the to-do list?” Rick asked, clapping his hands together. “We tried to convince the higher ups to let us spend the day on the beach, but it was a no-go. Buncha losers, if you ask me.”

Maddie grinned weakly. “We got permission to at least be on the roof for a little while. We thought maybe we could have lunch up there?”

“That sounds wonderful, Maddie,” Ilene said. She thought about asking if they wanted to show her and Rick around, but considering what Mark had told them about his and Maddie’s accommodations, she decided against it.

It was taking great effort to avoid looking at Maddie’s scales, but she wasn’t sure how her curiosity would be received.

Luckily, Maddie answered that for her. “Did you guys want to see…” she gestured at the scales on her face. “I don’t mind, honest. Just so long as you don’t ask if you can scrape samples off.” She laughed, but it sounded brittle to Ilene’s ears.

“Someone asked you that?” Mark demanded. “Who?”

Maddie shrugged and rubbed her arm. Long-sleeves, just as Mark had said. “I don’t really know any of their names.”

Before the conversation could turn even sadder, Rick spoke up. “Heard you got some glow-in-the-dark freckles, kid.”

Visibly perking up, Maddie nodded. “Let me put on a different shirt so you can see them better.” She bounded down the hall and vanished into, presumably, her bedroom.

“The lounge is right here,” Mark said, leading them to a different doorway.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me, man!” Rick burst out as soon as he stepped inside. “Those are actual bars!”

Ilene glared at the window. That really was unacceptable.

“Yeah.” Mark fell heavily onto one of the couches. “I don’t know if those have always been there or if they were added before our arrival. Not sure I want to know, actually.” He sent a grateful look to Rick as Ilene joined him. “Thanks for asking about her freckles. She actually really likes them, I think, so it’ll be good for to show them off without, y’know. The typical reactions.”

“Are these guys just more prejudiced than the last base or what?” Rick grabbed a chair from the small table against the wall, pulled it closer to the couches, and sat down backwards on it.

“I’ve been asking myself the same thing,” Mark said, shaking his head. “But I think it’s got something to do with how those people—they watched some of it happen, right? They watched a couple patches of scales form, so they got to see how it starts and all. There haven’t been any new additions since coming here.”

“So they have never had a chance to see Maddie beneath the mutations,” Ilene said with a scoff. “They only see the scales.”

Mark winced terribly at that, though he nodded.

Rick looked ready to really work himself up, but before Ilene could remind him that now was not the best time to lose his temper, Maddie peeked into the room. Her face—so young, to have seen and felt all she had—was pinched with nervousness.

“Would it be okay—I mean, it’s easier to see them glowing when it’s not super bright.” At their nods, she flipped two of the three switches on the panel beside the door. All the overhead lights flickered off, leaving only a pair of lamps in opposite corners lit. It was more than enough to see by, but not so much to outshine Maddie’s freckles.

Ilene wondered, as Maddie slipped inside, if she hoped the poor lighting would hide some of the scales. Though she wished to reassure the child that there would be no judgement from them, if the increased darkness made her feel more comfortable, then she could shut all the lights off for all Ilene cared.

The freckles became immediately obvious as Maddie crept closer. They shone all across her cheeks and nose, dripping brightly down the sides of her jaw. A precious few dotted the space between her eyebrows, as if they were only very slowly beginning to extend up to her forehead.

Ilene realized after a moment that Maddie was wearing a gray sleeveless shirt—with the NASA logo on the front—revealing a heavier scattering of freckles on her shoulders.

“Oh, Maddie,” she said softly, reaching out to gently take one of the girl’s hands. “They’re beautiful.”

“Like you’re covered in stars, kid,” Rick added.

Maddie made a slightly strangled noise and couldn’t quite manage to look at either of them. She’d likely never been told anything even remotely nice about her mutations. Ilene’s heart hurt for her.

Looking sheepish, and possibly a little embarrassed, Maddie reached up with her free hand to absently rub her upper arm. The motion drew Ilene’s eyes to the scales there, as well as the ones wrapped around her wrist.

Ilene had seen some of her scales before, when they were just beginning to show up. Maddie’s skin around that first patch, the very same as the one brushing against her own fingertips where she cradled Maddie’s hand, had been red with irritation.

The scales looked natural now, as if they belonged on her. _Mutation_ was such a harsh word with truly unfortunate connotations, and in Ilene’s opinion, it certainly didn’t fit with the nearly elegant spread of glossy gray scales across Maddie’s body.

Hoping she wasn’t overstepping her bounds, she voiced her thoughts.

Maddie’s genuine and slightly wobbly smile—she was still only a child—reassured Ilene that her words had not caused offense. Good. Maddie deserved to have someone besides Mark tell her that her scales were far from being freakish mutations. They were a masterpiece.

• • • 

Lunch on the roof turned out far better than Ilene could have hoped for. As soon as Maddie had stepped through the door, still bravely wearing the sleeveless shirt, she had closed her eyes and tilted her face up to the sun. They let her have that moment to herself, and instead set up the blanket and unloaded the box they’d been given.

Though Maddie was quiet for the first few minutes, Ilene was sure it was only because she was taking her time to enjoy the fresh air and natural warmth—which she hadn’t felt since her arrival.

The sandwiches and fruit they’d been given disappeared quickly as they chatted, doing their best to keep a lighthearted conversation going for when Maddie decided to join in.

It wasn’t what Maddie needed in the long run, Ilene knew. She needed to be free of the poking and prodding. Free of the tests and the looks others gave her for something so wholly out of her control. But for now, her and Rick’s presence and support seemed to be doing wonders. Maddie eventually perked up and was laughing freely by the time they polished off the brownies for dessert.

Mark looked lighter for it as well. Ilene wished there was more they could do.

They’d been on the roof for a little over an hour when Maddie nodded off, flat on her back with her head on Mark’s thigh. He kept brushing her hair off her relaxed face, while wearing a troubled expression of his own.

Ilene had seldom felt as angry—as truly, unrepentantly angry—as she did when he passed them a folder carrying a transcript detailing a repulsive conversation.

Rick shook his head. “Disgusting. They’re the ones who aren’t human, talking like that about a kid!”

“I think staying here is no longer an option, Mark.” Ilene forced herself to calmly return the papers to their folder, much as she’d have liked to rip them apart. “If this is what they’re thinking now…”

“It’ll only be worse if more mutations show up,” he finished. He stared down at Maddie, who remained asleep and entirely oblivious to their conversation. “Do you think they’ll let us leave?”

“If they know what’s good for them—!” Rick exploded, looking about ready to physically fight someone. He visibly bit back the rest of his outburst. “They got one thing right: they’ve got no real authority over you.”

“And if they threaten to tell the public about Maddie if we don’t do as they say?”

Rick stood up and aggressively began to pace. Maddie was no doubt the only reason he wasn’t yelling every curse in his collection. His restraint was admirable, considering how little Ilene saw him use it.

“I’d like to believe them to be better than blackmail, but…” She sent a glare at the folder. “Your best option might be to simply leave and hope they don’t care to follow. Deprive them of the chance to deny you.”

“They can go to hell!” Rick called from the other side of the roof. “Whether they try to stop you or not, man, all of them can rot!”

His dramatics made Mark chuckle, so Ilene gave him a pass. Maddie didn’t so much as stir, anyway, so no harm done.

“This situation just can’t get much worse, can it?” Mark asked, sounding far too despairing for her liking.

“We won’t let you face this alone, Mark,” she said, reaching over to lay her hand over his, resting on Maddie’s shoulder. “Either of you. We _will_ figure something out, and someday, this will all be behind us. Okay?”

He nodded, slow and small, and took a deep breath. “Yeah. You’re right. I’ll talk with Maddie after you guys leave, and I’ll keep you updated.”

“Good. We want to help, as much as we can.”

Mark offered her a tight-lipped smile, though his gratitude was clear in his eyes. “Thank you, Ilene. That really does mean a lot.”

• • • 

On the tenth day since arriving at the new base, Maddie woke up with a slight cough. Her lungs felt odd—heavy almost—and breathing was both slightly painful and borderline hard. Air seemed to stick in her throat, and by midday, it burned from how much coughing she’d been doing.

It sucked to have to deal with being sick on top of everything else. Each hacking cough felt like sand being rubbed against the walls of her throat, leaving them tender and sore. She tried to explain to the doctor taking her blood how it felt like a weight had been placed behind her sternum. Her lungs felt like lead.

“Just a cold,” they said dismissively. “You don’t have a fever. Drink some tea with honey, and I’ll have someone bring cough drops over.”

Usually, Maddie would agree. But they were treating her cough like a symptom when it was a side effect. The cough only existed because her breaths dragged and stuck. Her lungs were the problem.

She sat on her bed and rubbed the heavy spot, centered over her upper chest. Maddie hoped it wasn’t something worse, something actually dangerous. There were all sorts of things that could be causing this pain.

Maddie fell back onto her pillow and stared up at the ceiling of her bedroom, trying to remember the warmth of the sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Maddie. :( I'm not gonna lie, it was kinda fun writing the transcript and figuring out the different opinions each of the people had. 
> 
> And thank you all for your patience! I took twice as long this time around, I think. Oops. 
> 
> blessings upon you and your households!! ❤️ as always, [my tumblr](https://star-going-supernova.tumblr.com)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... come here often? 
> 
> In all seriousness, thank you all for your patience! And I hope you enjoy the chapter!

When Maddie woke up the next day, her chest hurt even more. Her breathing was wheezier. Her lungs were heavy and tight and she tried to swallow down her panic as she curled into the fetal position. There was a gross wet spot on her pillow beneath her cheek, drool still caught in the corner of her lips. With a pained groan, she sat up and wiped it off.

Her whole body felt tense in reaction to the pain as she forced herself up and blearily got dressed. Without windows, her room was dark and her eyes wouldn’t appreciate the overhead lights just yet. It made her freckles all the more obvious, and she stood with her shirt in her hands for a few minutes, experimenting with how much light they actually gave off.

She was practically winded by the time she finished tying her sneakers up. Despite the urge to crawl back into bed and spend the day trying to sleep rather than cough and wheeze, her dad was expecting her for breakfast, and he was already worried enough about her. Trying her best to breath evenly, she tugged a black sweater on over her t-shirt, even though the day promised to be as hot as ever.

Maddie left the room without looking back, and so, she didn’t see her pillow in the light. Had she, she would have seen that the spot of drool was not, in fact, drool at all. It was blood.

• • • 

The lights in the lounge were making her eyes hurt. She kept her head down and her free hand pressed to her forehead, acting as a visor while she ate. She picked at her food, preoccupied with trying not to cough.

“Maddie,” her dad said, with the concern of someone who’d already repeated himself several times. She glanced up. “You look like hell, kiddo,” he said softly. “And you don’t sound too much better.”

She rubbed over her sternum. “It’s hard to breathe,” she admitted. “My chest hurts.”

He pushed his chair back and stood. “I’m gonna go find a doctor. Did it just start?”

Shaking her head, she rasped, “I told them yesterday. Said it was a cold.”

Anger darkened her dad’s face. “Like hell it’s a cold. I can practically hear your lungs rattling. No offense, Maddie, but I think a strong breeze could knock you over right now.”

She laughed weakly, which made her cough. Holding the crook of her elbow over her mouth, she waited for the hacking to stop. It was thick and wet and _burned_. “Feels like it, too.”

Dad leaned down and pressed his cheek to her forehead. “Doesn’t feel like you have a fever,” he muttered before inching toward the door. “I’ll drag someone back here, kicking and screaming if I have to. You just wait right there, okay?”

Maddie nodded, in too much pain to even consider arguing. She started coughing again as he left her alone. Slumping back, she sighed. Keeping her eyes squinted, her gaze drifted around a little as her leg started bouncing. A panicky sort of restlessness settled bone-deep inside her. Just before she could get up and start pacing, despite her better judgement, something caught her attention.

Her sleeve was wet where she’d coughed into it. Making a face, she snagged a napkin and tried to pat it dry, only to do a double-take. A dull red stained the napkin’s white surface.

She felt her heart jump. Without waiting for another cough, Maddie gathered saliva in her mouth and spit it onto the napkin, only to jerk to her feet and drop it.

It was like as soon as the adrenaline from realizing she was coughing up blood hit her, she immediately felt both better and worse. She stripped her sweater off, her arms suddenly too sensitive and her scales too itchy. The weakness that’d been dragging her down not two minutes ago vanished even as her lungs seemed to shrivel up into utter uselessness. She could taste the blood now, and without waiting for her dad to come back, Maddie fled the room, blinded by a sudden urge to be outside.

To be in the ocean. The ocean, the ocean, she had to get to the ocean.

For the first time since arriving at the base, except for the trip to the roof, Maddie left the small wing she’d been confined to. Being so unfamiliar with the layout, she had no way of knowing the fastest way to get out of the building, leaving her stumbling through hallways and down stairwells.

She couldn’t _breathe right_. Her lungs _weren’t working_.

The first person she came across startled at the sight of her. He asked her something, she was pretty sure, but her ears were ringing and her eyes were blurred with tears. She pushed past him, unaware of the blood slowly seeping from the corners of her mouth.

Shouting. Lights. Someone touched her arm, brushing against a patch of scales, and she recoiled with a hiss at the flare of hot pain, like super-heated pins and needles pricking against her.

She was _suffocating_. Air gasped into her, useless, useless and painful, gone before it could do a thing.

There was a voice that rose up over the others, seemingly directed at her. She didn’t recognize it, didn’t pay it any mind. More hands tugged at her, mostly avoiding her scales, but the sensation of being touched still stabbed through her. She struggled away.

Distantly, she was aware of a horrible rasping wheeze.

She need to get outside. She needed the ocean. She didn’t know why, didn’t even question where the instinct came from, but she knew—she needed to be in the ocean.

In the corner of her hazy vision, her racing mind registered a needle. With a frantic, wordless cry—her lungs were choking her, her words were being smothered by blood—she lashed out.

For a brief, blessed second, the crowding bodies and reaching hands and loud voices pulled away. Maddie took advantage of the space returned to her to lunge forward, free, free, free of those insistent obstacles, and used what may very well have been the last of her strength to _run_.

The bright red words EXIT seared themselves into her watering eyes, and she followed them as if she’d die if she didn’t.

An alarm started wailing the moment she shoved through the doors into the sun, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop. The ocean was so close.

• • •

A commotion rang out over the waves. The irritating shriek of an alarm reached its warning into the depths.

Worry and anger and fierce protectiveness radiated through the water in a flare of blue light.

The ocean parted.

• • • 

It was still too far. Maddie collapsed within sight of the shore, lightheaded and unsteady. People circled around her within seconds, and she tried, _she tried,_ to explain, to tell them what she _needed_. But the words wouldn’t come, and their hands felt like sandpaper and their voices like knives in her ears. She flinched away but couldn’t escape.

Someone got her upright, and immediately, her stomach clenched and her spine tensed and Maddie lurched involuntarily as her throat constricted. Blood spilled out of her mouth onto the sand. She choked.

They were moving her, closer to a stretcher laid at her side. She tried to resist, but it was like a kitten amongst wolves.

And then—silence.

Maddie felt the people touching her go rigid, each and every one freezing in place. The wind whispered around them, and so close, _so close,_ water splashed and rippled. A shadow passed over them.

She twisted, half-falling back to the ground.

Behind her, blocking the morning sun, was Godzilla. He stood in the ocean, glaring down at the group with his mouth half-open. She couldn’t be sure, not when her thoughts and sight were so hazy, but she would’ve sworn the light of his atomic breath was creeping out around his teeth. His eyes and spines were visibly lit, and he looked, in that moment, much like she remembered him looking in Boston.

He was facing down these tiny little humans with the same ready ferocity as he’d faced down Ghidorah. She might’ve laughed, if she had the breath to spare.

Maddie blinked, or maybe blacked out for a few seconds, because when she opened her eyes, her dad was at her side, talking lowly to the others. She unconsciously relaxed a little, trusting him to help her.

• • •

When the alarm had gone off, signaling someone opening one of the emergency fire doors, Mark had _known_ it had to do with his daughter. At first, he followed the trail of shouting people, but when he stumbled upon the speckles of blood still fresh on the floor, he followed that instead.

The scene he ran out to turned his stomach. His daughter was clearly on the verge of passing out, surrounded by people who were obviously hurting her, given the way she was shoving at their hands without seeming to realize she was doing so. He made it all of a few steps beyond the building’s threshold before two things happened.

First, Maddie vomited, and even from here, he could see how _red_ it was. At about the same moment, a particularly large wave crested over the sand, heralding the arrival of Godzilla.

Somehow, he managed not to freeze in place like every other adult at the sight of those blue spines and the sound of that angry growl. He shoved through the shocked crowd and dropped to his knees beside his daughter, whose eyes were rolled back in her head.

There was blood on her chin and her shirt, no sweater in sight, and her arms were pink and irritated around her scales. Her inhales was croaking and thin. Back in college, Mark had been a witness to someone having an allergic reaction. Their throat had swelled up, and their struggles had sounded just like Maddie did right now.

She’d come out here for a reason, he realized, thoughts racing. He looked up at Godzilla, down at the water the Titan stood in, and figured he had a pretty good idea of what his daughter had been trying to do.

“Help me get her up,” he snapped at the stranger to his left. Maddie remained limp, though her eyes were slitted open with the barest shine of awareness to them, as a few people silently maneuvered her into Mark’s arms. She sighed breathlessly against his neck when they pulled away.

Ignoring everyone else on the beach, including the still-growling Godzilla, Mark walked down the sand and into the ocean without a care for his clothes. The Titan’s audible displeasure quieted slightly as Mark got closer. That had to be a good sign.

His worry and fear for Maddie outweighed any wariness at being so close to Godzilla. He’d known from the beginning of this whole mutation mess that he’d do anything to make sure his daughter stayed safe and happy, despite the changes she was going through. Walking _towards_ the angry Titan included.

Nonetheless, it was with a heavy heart that Mark accepted that whatever it was Maddie needed, he was beyond providing it. The mutations were no longer merely superficial, existing only on the surface of her skin. This was life-threatening.

Mark stopped when the water reached his mid-thighs. He hesitated, and dared glance up at Godzilla, who titled his head down, clearly expectant. Standing directly below the King of Titans, he could help but wonder if this was even close to what Maddie felt, staring up Ghidorah in Boston.

Under Godzilla’s watchful gaze, Mark took a deep breath and started to lower Maddie into the water. She jerked a little as her legs passed beneath the surface. She seemed to come out of her half-unconscious daze, enough to hold onto him as he released her legs. After one last failed attempt to draw in air, he felt her let go, and though it was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, Mark let her go in turn.

She vanished beneath the surface, left as nothing more than a shifting, distorted shape at his feet. Mark couldn’t help it as he stared down into the ocean—he held his breath, half-expecting her to suddenly start struggling back up.

Instead, after a few agonizingly long seconds, he felt her lean against one of his legs, calm as could be.

He nodded, mostly to himself, took a deep breath, and finally looked back up at Godzilla.

There was a conversation to be had.

• • •

The cold water that swallowed her up was the best kind of shock to her system. A foreign instinct swept through her, as odd and ingrained as the one that screamed of her need to return to the ocean, and overrode every self-preservation instinct she’d had for years by forcing her to suck in a deep breath.

Maddie’s body seized up in anticipation of the horrible feeling of inhaling water, but it never came. Quite the opposite, in fact. It was like taking that first breath of fresh air after being surrounded by thick fumes for so long, you’d almost forgotten what it was like to not be inhaling them.

The tight, compressed feeling in her chest released, and like a flood, the rest of her body seemed to sort itself out.

The itchy sandpaper feeling vanished, soothed by the coolness of her new surroundings. Her throat didn’t feel coated in grit anymore. The haziness and panicky restlessness drained out of her. And though there was still a certain weight behind her sternum, it was nothing compared to before.

Bubbles trickled out of her mouth as she gave an approximation of a sigh. Maddie shifted around to lean against her dad’s leg, more than content to sit on the sandy ocean floor. She could drive herself crazy with how this was possible later.

For the first few minutes, it took a little bit of effort to maintain a steady in-out breathing pattern. Two very different instincts were warring inside her, and she had to consciously resist the one that demanded she return to the surface.

Eventually, it came a little more naturally, and she was able to close her mouth and breathe through her nose without freaking out. As weird of a sensation as it was, other than the fact the water was a tangible thing, it wasn’t too different from breathing air normally.

The mechanics behind it would probably give a bunch of scientists aneurisms or something, but being poked and prodded and studied was kinda the last thing she wanted to think about, so…

Instead, she wondered about something much more practical: was this a permanent thing, or could she go back and forth between air and water as she pleased?

Hell, Maddie almost missed the days when the scales were just showing up. Looking back, it seemed like a much simpler time compared to the here and now.

• • •

It took every speck of Godzilla’s self-control to keep himself from striking at the group gathered on the beach. The sight he’d first seen when he emerged from the depths—that of _his_ _human,_ bleeding and gasping for air gave him more than the right to act to save her—sparked a massive surge of fierce protectiveness on its own. It was made worse, interlacing dangerously with a burning fury he seldom felt, by the way those ignorant humans had been crowding around the child, grasping at her despite her struggles.

When they’d frozen at the sight of him, he’d almost wanted them to defy his silent demands and give him a reason to cut them down.

His bonded’s sire proved himself tenfold in those moments. The man could be brave when he wanted to be, as Godzilla knew it was no small task for anyone to approach him when he was so visibly consumed by anger.

With the girl safe in the water now, Godzilla backed off enough to re-submerge himself and circle around so he was as conceivably close to the two humans as he could get. With his bonded returned to the ocean, he could sense her again, and his relief at her safety and health was great.

What had started as an untouchable itch, all unknowns and distant echoes of what laid on the other side of a weak, incomplete bond, had settled into something a little less nebulous and a little more comforting. And as it was still wasn’t solidified between them, the potential shining within it was immense.

The longer she lingered in his realm, the better Godzilla was able to feel her within his mind and soul.

Gone was the panic he’d known was there without needing to feel it, and only faint remnants of aches lingered around her changed lungs. Though he couldn’t know her thoughts, there was a calmness radiating out from her that was more reassuring than any spoken words could be.

He could, for the moment, leave her to herself, give her time to further recover. She’d come to the ocean on her own, likely guided by an instinct long forgotten in humans. He was unquestionably proud of her for that, and he rumbled, pleased.

When Godzilla turned to face the waiting human man, he saw in her sire a worry that he himself felt. Despite how long it’d been since he last had a bonded, he knew the changes weren’t supposed to happen like this. Not this quickly, not this violently. They were meant to start slow and remain steady, begin young and only finish when the human was older and could understand their importance better.

Perhaps he was right, that her experiences were vastly different since the spark of the bond hadn’t formed at birth. It could be that her body was trying to catch up, so to speak, to where it would be had it taken years to develop each and every little change.

Certainly, no one ever threw up blood when their lungs underwent the change. It would likely be best to assume that, from here on forward, nothing would go the way he remembered.

As cruel as nature was being to his bonded, it made sense. If humans had long lost the ability to form bonds in the first place, maybe their bodies were no longer equipped to handle them like they used to.

Still, Godzilla had hope. His bonded human had come this far, was adapting as well as she could, given the circumstances, and he dismissed the wrongdoings of the other humans from his mind to better allow himself to feel all the pride could. She was strong. She would survive anything else the bond could throw at her—of that, he was certain.

Ah, but he was getting distracted. The man was silent, possibly waiting for some indication from Godzilla that he would be heard when he finally spoke. He grumbled and raised his head out of the water, enough to comfortably look down at the human. A spare glance revealed the beach to be empty, the others having wisely taken his distraction as a chance to retreat.

The man let out a shaky breath and gestured at the distorted shape of the child. “Maddie thinks you can help. That this is… all connected to you.”

Maddie. That was his bonded human’s name. He’d almost forgotten he hadn’t known it before now.

Godzilla huffed and nodded. Given that the girl was _his,_ he was the only one who could really help.

“I don’t know what this is meant to be,” the man said, indicating the intangible connection between Godzilla and Maddie. “I don’t understand it. But it’s not going to go away, and I think it would be a big mistake to ignore it. Just—is she in danger?”

How similar they were, this man and his daughter. Maddie’s concern, during their first meeting, had been whether these changes were dangerous. Not how to undo it, or if it could be stopped—and for all the frustration the man clearly felt, he made no accusations. Just as Maddie hadn’t.

Godzilla rumbled. They were both strong, these little humans. He shook his head. Though the changes had not been easy, they were never intended to harm those facing them. The mutations were a gift, not a death sentence.

He only wished he could tell plainly them that, and offer what reassurance he could.

The man took a few deep breaths. His panic and worry had lessened, but this situation was unfamiliar to him. Change could be terrifying, Godzilla knew, especially when it was happening to someone you loved and cared for. He patiently waited for the human to continue.

“The mutations have something to do with you, obviously,” he eventually said, his gaze distant. He was working it out for himself. Good. “And they’re pretty sure we have some combination of multiple instances of exposure to Titans and Ghidorah’s lighting to thank for them.”

That wasn’t entirely correct, but there was no way to explain how it all worked just yet. Once he could better communicate with Maddie, after their bond was complete, he would tell her all that he knew about this matter. For now, he merely snorted.

His reaction largely went unnoticed, as the man was looking down and away. He glanced back at the beach, then around them at the greater ocean. What he was looking for, Godzilla could not have guessed.

“You—you came here,” he started haltingly. Something like confusion and understanding played over his face, as if he wasn’t quite sure which he felt more. “Today, I mean, you were obviously nearby—maybe even waiting?—when she came outside—you… you protected her. As much as you could, anyway. The mutations—it’s more than just scales and stuff, isn’t it? It actually means something to you.”

To say they meant something to him was vastly underestimating exactly how important the mutations were. A sour sense of sadness filled him. How easily the past was forgotten. How easily the old was left behind for the new. There was a time when the parents of a bonded child would celebrate at the sight of scales. Now they brought fear and uncertainty.

Even knowing that his words would go unheard, Godzilla extended them just the same. _“The hearts of our bonded humans are woven into our own,”_ he rumbled in his own tongue. _“A connection between souls—it is a priceless thing. Each of us had humans who meant the world to us, for there is nothing we would not do for them. That is your daughter, now. That is what the mutations—what_ ** _she_** _—means to me.”_

And though the human man did not—indeed, could not—understand him, he nodded solemnly, perhaps to himself, and swallowed heavily.

“I’m trusting you with her,” he whispered. “That you’ll keep her safe. Because she’s not anymore, not here. And if that means I have to give her up, then I will. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her. She’s all I have left.” The man looked up at Godzilla, looked into his eyes and said, “I get the feeling you understand that.”

In some things, it seemed human parents and bonded Titans were not so different.

Godzilla bowed his head, knowing the sacrifice the man was making. _“Anyone who wishes to harm her will have to go through_ ** _me_** _,”_ he promised with a flare of his eyes. And then, because every moment since the scales first formed over Maddie’s skin could have been different, because this very conversation could have been different, he said with complete sincerity, _“Thank you.”_

And the man could only smile brokenly in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter's the bonding!! I swear, no matter how long I go between updates, I am finishing this. 
> 
> Love y'all lots!! ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> • [my tumblr](https://star-going-supernova.tumblr.com) •


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